


resolute

by miilkteas



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Hogwarts!au, Quidditch, slightly ooc gray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9819203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miilkteas/pseuds/miilkteas
Summary: gray's quidditch commentary at its finest. [ hogwarts!au ]





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am well aware that gray is slightly ooc, but i'm making him this way for the sake of his commentary. as always, this is unedited. feel free to leave comments :)

Ravenclaw actually had a chance at the Quidditch Cup—it surprised practically the entire school, although Gryffindor didn’t really complain after a disastrous season involving fifth-year Natsu Dragneel and a Cleansweep Eleven accidentally set ablaze. It was a lovely day in May, with hopes running high for Ravenclaw to win the championship against Slytherin and desperate students cramming in for their rapidly approaching OWL’s and NEWT’s. Bets, secretly run under the noses of unsuspecting teachers by Mirajane and Cana, were at a new high.

In the stands, Gray Fullbuster had taken it upon himself to do the commentary, already thinking about witty lines he planned to use and how much censorship was needed so that his Head of House, Makarov, wouldn’t ban him from the job completely. While there still was a good amount of time before the actual match started, most of the seats were filled, the students hoping to get a glimpse of the two teams warming up.

Natsu, while still slightly bitter about his broomstick mishap, decided that bothering his fellow Gryffindor was in order. “Are you regretting the fact that you chose commentary over playing for your own house?” he asked almost too cheerily.

“We would have bombed the season even if I wasn’t on the team,” Gray muttered darkly, feigning interest in his microphone. “Not my fault that Erza discovered she could hide a freaking axe in her jersey.”

“You probably gave up on playing for Gryffindor in your third year after you embarrassed yourself in front of that Ravenclaw girl by getting a Bludger up your—”

Gray quickly clapped a hand over his friend’s mouth, a light pink dusting his cheeks when he recalled the unfortunate moment when the Beaters did not hit the ball away in time. “We don’t talk about those dark times.”

When he had released Natsu from his vise-like grip, the pink-haired wizard seemed to have the revelation of the century—mind you, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, so Gray didn’t expect too much. “Wait, isn’t that girl playing in the match today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gray replied shortly.

At this rate, Natsu was convinced that he was an absolute genius. Never had he figured something out so quickly, and he was almost sure that Gray was commentating just to get the girl’s attention. His grin widened considerably. “Yeah, I remember now. She had really long blue hair, and from what I’ve heard, she’s captain this year. What’s her name again…?”

“Juvia,” he filled in all too quickly, causing the other to laugh gleefully. Natsu nearly fell off the bleachers, but a strong hand pulled him back over the edge.

_Erza Scarlet, a sixth-year prefect that was a little too enthusiastic about Quidditch._

“You should be more careful Natsu,” she scolded, taking a seat besides the two boys—it was evident that she had overheard everything, and she was now desperate to dig a little deeper about Gray’s love life. “We don’t want anything going wrong with today’s match.”

Both of the wizards gulped nervously, letting out a meek, “Yes ma’am!”

“Good.” Erza fumbled with her satchel for a few moments, suddenly producing Ravenclaw headbands, which she happily handed over to the two boys. They were simply covered in feathers, sporting the house name in large letters—corny if anything, but Gray hastily replaced his hat with the blue headband once he saw the Ravenclaw team going over last minute plays down on the pitch.

Professor Makarov—calling him a short man was a major understatement—heaved himself on the seat directly adjacent to Gray, shooing both Erza and Natsu away. “You can start the commentary now, you brat,” he said curtly. “And make sure to make Gryffindor look good.”

“But sir, we aren’t even playing—”

He more or less ignored him, muttering under his breath about none of his current students having the same pride for Gryffindor as some kids _did back in his day_. Gray chose to not take offense, and he proceeded to begin the match by introducing the players.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the final Quidditch game of the year,” he said loudly, his voice echoing throughout the field. “We have an extremely talented lineup this year, and I can assure you, even I was surprised when Ravenclaw did this well this season.”

Gray allowed a sprinkle of laughter to come from the crowd before he spoke once more.

“Now taking the pitch we got Ravenclaw Chasers Lockser, McGarden, and Vastia; Beaters Justine and Bickslow—he still won’t tell me his last name; Keeper Lates; and Seeker Lore. A strong team we got there, although I’m not sure Hibiki here isn’t the best choice for the Keeper position. Perhaps Vastia would have been a better—”

Makarov sighed. “FULLBUSTER!” 

“Sorry Professor,” Gray apologized quickly, getting straight back to the match. “On the other side, playing for Slytherin: Chasers Evergreen, Dreyar, and Fernandes looking very sharp indeed. The legendary Twin Dragon Beaters Eucliffe and Cheney are right behind them, followed closely by Keeper Redfox and Seeker Milkovich.”

A sharp whistle tweeted, and the fourteen players launched into the air. While the seats had been raised high in the air, many students used binoculars to help them see. Gray’s eyes flashed wildly flashed back and forth as if watching a very intense tennis match, eager to find things to make commentary about. His voice got stuck in his throat as a blue jersey flashed by him, the player’s long azure hair rippling behind her—only then did he remember that there was still a game in process.

“Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle already—looks like Evergreen and Laxus have some fancy pass maneuvers all figured out, but Jellal looks like he’s having some trouble—and a fumble by Fernandes causes Ravenclaw Chaser Lockser to take the Quaffle—astounding player, and not to mention she’s gorgeous—”

“GET BACK TO THE MATCH, YOU BRAT!”

“Okay, I said I was sorry already old man—anyways Cheney sends a Bludger in Vastia’s direction—he accidentally hits Evergreen instead, that must hurt—that’s enough of a distraction for Dreyar to steal the Quaffle from Lockser, narrowly missed a rogue Bludger there—nice play by the Slytherin Chasers, and they are approaching Hates, who seems to be very distressed—Keeper dives for the Quaffle a little too late and Slytherin scores!”

The majority of the school let out groans, while a green-infested corner of the stands roared in approval as they waved their Slytherin merchandise around. While the traditional stigma about Slytherins being an unpleasant lot was mostly eradicated, it was undeniable that someone other than Gryffindor or Slytherin should have a shot at the Quidditch Cup.

Soon enough, the game was back in motion, with Ravenclaw taking the Quaffle and avoiding Bludgers hit by the Twin Dragons. As the game progressed, it was evident that Gray would have to sacrifice his voice, although that was a sacrifice that he was more than willing to make.

“Fernandes getting very close to Ravenclaw’s McGarden, who is in possession—I smell a foul for excessive elbowing—and there’s the whistle,” Gray said, barely able to keep up with the fast-paced game. “Looks like Vastia is taking the penalty shot— _you better not miss you bastard, ‘scuse my French_ —and Redfox fails to save it. The score is tied, 10-10.”

There was a small bit of applause as Lyon scored his shot, although it quickly turned into groans of disgust as he blew a kiss in his fellow Chaser’s direction, causing Juvia’s facial expression to turn into one that wasn’t at all pleasant. “And after what seems like rejection from Chaser Lockser, we continue on with the game, Slytherin taking the Quaffle,” Gray said, all too happy to report that Juvia shut Lyon down.

Ravenclaw slowly pulled ahead, leading 90-20 in a matter of plays, much to the school’s excitement. Either Hibiki had gotten lucky with nearly all of his saves, or the rest of the team just happened to be that good—Gray liked to think that it was the latter.

“We still have not seen the Golden Snitch yet—wait! Slytherin Seeker Milkovich suddenly makes a dive—I can’t tell if she’s playing the Wronski Feint, but Ravenclaw’s Lore seems to be following her—anything can happen now—Ultear pulled out of her dive! Oh boy, that looked like it hurt… the medics are currently rushing to the field to attend to Rufus, who crashed headfirst.”

From Gray’s position in the stands, it looked like Rufus was still conscious despite the impact of the crash. The school’s nurse, Porlyusica, attended to the blond wizard quickly before allowing him back on his broom. When Rufus had kicked off again, the game resumed. 

He cleared his throat. “After a heart-stopping Wronski Feint by Ultear Milkovich, Slytherin takes possession, using their pass techniques from earlier in the game. Hates looks even more nervous—you can do it, man—and his hands brush the Quaffle as it sails past him into the goal. Ravenclaw still leads 90-30.”

Spirits were noticeably dampened after Rufus’ crash, although a blue-clad section of the stands remained positive. “Lockser of Ravenclaw currently in possession, she’s flying a Starsweeper XXI—that is a world-class broom imported from America, reminds me of Harry Potter and his Firebolt, the cutest member of the team in my opinion—”

Rogue had managed to send one of the Bludgers in Juvia’s direction, and she dropped the ball while dodging it, only for Evergreen to come swoop it up. Gray had to turn away to swear under his breath about the narrow miss, hastily turning back once Makarov waved a tiny fist at him.

“Alright, back to the game. McGarden now pursuing Fernandes, who is in possession of the Quaffle—wait, he passes to Dreyar—incredible interception by Vastia! He’s making his way towards the ever formidable Redfox—AND RAVENCLAW SCORES!”

Ravenclaw had a decent lead, now 100-30. However, they simply couldn’t stop and enjoy the game just yet—if Slytherin got the Snitch, they would win the game and the Quidditch Cup. Seven goals were nothing to be writing home about. However, the game was far from over. While the Golden Snitch was nowhere in sight, Gray and everyone else knew that it wouldn’t take very long to catch it once it had been spotted. Nervously, he drank out of his bottle of butterbeer, only to spit out the drink once Rufus had made a swift beeline towards the Slytherin end of the pitch, where a flash of gold was last seen. 

“Lore of Ravenclaw seems to have spotted the Snitch, but Milkovich only realizes it now—she must have spaced off for a second there!” Gray narrated. “The two Seekers are neck and neck, and both of them have the same broom models; Nimbus 2000’s, gifted to their teams by Headmaster Mavis…”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, and even Gray was stuttering—the game had practically paused with the exception of the Seekers.

“WHAT’S THIS? RUFUS MANAGES TO SNAG THE GOLDEN SNITCH! RAVENCLAW WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

There was certainly a lot of crying involved, and the typically stoic Makarov even stooped as low as to shake hands with Ravenclaw Head Ooba, who threatened to “spin him” if he tried being passive-aggressive towards her again. As fast as he could, Gray hurried down the stands to congratulate the winning team, oblivious to the Ravenclaw headband still on his head.

Before he could leap down into the pitch, he was stopped by an evilly grinning Erza. “Some interesting commentary there. But can’t you be a little more resolute?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, shedding his robes, leaving him in his button-up and trousers—Gray’s stripping habit really needed to be stopped. “All I did was talk about the game, that’s all. I mean, I thought that I was kind of witty…”

“Not that, Gray,” Erza sighed, exasperated. “I rather did enjoy your comments towards a certain Ravenclaw Chaser… I found those remarks rather humorous.”

He shrugged, sidestepping the red-haired witch. “Lyon makes for good commentary.”

“You know, I really expected better from you. Can’t you be a little more resolute? 

“Perhaps.” 

With his face flushing with the fire of a thousand hells, he allowed his head to hang low, hands shoved into his pockets. He was just going down there to congratulate the entire team… it’s not like he was going for a specific person, oh no. But who was he kidding? Gray had but one intent to speak to Juvia—it had taken him the longest time to own up to it, but here he was, being the most resolute he had ever been in all the years he’d known her.

So screw Erza and her all-knowing wisdom, he was going to confess right there and then.

_Oh wait, he had a tsundere reputation to uphold._

He gritted his teeth, wondering where his previous flirtatious comments had come from—in all his years at Hogwarts, he had never been so direct about his feelings, surprising even himself. Gray was certainly capable of many things that weren’t at all tsundere-esque in his head, but his commentary was certainly a first.

It was too late to turn back, and it was obvious that the entire Ravenclaw team had spotted him—they were snickering all too loudly and nudging Juvia in his direction. Perhaps he suddenly forgot how to breathe, because in that moment she was absolutely beautiful and he was at a loss for words. “It’s your boy-toy,” Bickslow smirked.

The Ravenclaw looked slightly indignant if not a little embarrassed on top of that. “H-Hello, Gray. What are you doing down here?”

“Good game,” he said in greeting, a rare smile tugging on the ends of his lips. “Just came to congratulate the winning captain, that’s all.”

If Erza could see him now she’d be a proud mother hen. Look at him, actually speaking to her in something other that curt grunts and nods! He must have eaten something funny earlier this morning for him to be so bold—perhaps he swapped bodies with the constantly flirty Loke or something.

Whatever it was, it certainly made the girl beam brightly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “If there’s anyone you should be congratulating, it’s Rufus. He caught the Snitch, after all. But I like your headband.”

“I think I’m congratulating the right person,” he said easily, his lips making a brief brush against her cheek, much to Juvia’s surprise. Gray, while he felt his face heat up about her headband comment, did not succumb to the teasing. The team simultaneously let out a childish “Oooohhh,” which the two silently chose to ignore.  
  
In the stands, Natsu had to begrudgingly hand Erza ten galleons—Gray had made a move on Juvia, although Erza had one small complaint: “He wasn’t resolute enough.”


End file.
